To Kill A Blue Jay
by ToraHogosha
Summary: Fate... destiny... everything for the past five days has circled Max back to this very moment. She thought she was doing the right thing, saving her best friend's life. But the universe insists she right this interference. Can Max stand idly by as Chloe is taken from her again? In-depth on Max's psyche as the events unfold around her. Episode five ending theory Pricefield.


[A/N: This is a vent fic I wrote to cope with the ending of Episode 3 and also - in my preferred theory's opinion - the inevitability of Chloe's fate in Episode 5. _This is not confirmed! This is not canon!_ This is just what I think the ending might look like and I wanted to delve into Max's mind and heart, because the situation is agonizing to conceive and it gets me teared up every time I think about it. So here it is! **Warning: Angst and tears abound!** Also I named it To Kill a Blue Jay because I'm a sucker for motifs in things, but the closest thing to a motif in Life Is Strange is the recurring themes of spirit animals and that distinctive colour of blue. Chloe's spirit animal is the blue jay, therefore I thought the name fit quite nicely. Enjoy!]

The picture pulsed and hummed and flashed in tune with the racing beating of Max's heart and the stream of tears cemented onto her face.

With a flash, she woke up, standing in the middle of the bathroom floor, isolated and alone.

"I'm here again…" she breathed, trying to control herself and numb the pain coursing through her veins.

The further she rewound, the worse the agony. How she didn't scream when she went back to save Chloe's dad was a mystery, because now she felt like she might pass out from the churning pain.

However, a swimming cocktail of guilt and heartache contributed to the physical effects she was feeling.

Checking her pocket, she noted the absence of the butterfly photo, gaging precisely how far back she was.

Now she had to retrace her steps.

For the third time that week, she repeated the ritual of using the faucets and splashing her face with water, thankful that the cold dulled the burning of her forehead and numbed her aching, bloodshot eyes.

Suddenly though, Max was overwhelmed with nausea, the realization of what she knew was about to happen slamming into with the velocity of a car crash.

She forced herself to remain strong and composed, despite knowing that something as simple as using the faucets was like twisting a knife into Chloe's heart.

Max felt like a murderer. She was, in some ways, just as guilty as Nathan, even though she had no choice in what had to be done.

It was Chloe or the world.

The only reason she managed to choose the world was after she asked herself what Chloe would want her to do.

 _Chloe wouldn't want me to save her if the world had to suffer,_ she reminded herself, over and over again, chanting it like a mantra. _I'm doing this for Chloe…_

Gazing to her left, Max saw the brilliant blue butterfly flutter in from the blinding white light outside, its wondrous shade illuminating like a small beacon contrasted against the gloom of the bathroom setting.

Once again, she followed its idle path, eventually settling upon the bucket with its wings tickling the air.

Slowly, hesitantly, Max withdrew her camera and knelt down in front of the beautiful creature.

To Max, the snapping of her camera could have just as easily been the pulling of the trigger; both were sealing Chloe's fate all the same.

After the photo developed, Max stared numbly at it for a few moments, flashing back to how she felt when she first took the beautiful photo.

Pride. Awe. Contentment.

Now she felt a choking sorrow, a gnawing guilt and an unbearable pain.

Tucking the photo away, she wallowed in the silence, finding no tranquillity or compassion from it. It was… musky and unclean. The air was there, yet it wasn't, and Max briefly considered the otherworldly state she was feeling could symbolize that she was, in face, simply a part of some horrible dream.

However, with blistering realization, she knew that wasn't the case.

She as stuck there, in the present, dreading the future, loathing the past.

Shuffling awkwardly in place, she tapped her fingers impatiently, finding the anticipation more painful than she could have possibly imagined.

 _If it has to happen, just get it over with…_

The door opened. It was Nathan.

Max shrivelled back, biting her lip to force back a scream, begging and pleading with universe to let her take her rash impatience back.

 _It was happening… it was actually happening…_

Despite knowing how the rewind time worked better than anyone, it still came as a horrible surprise and shock when the events unfolded just as it did.

Maybe, deep down inside, she was hoping that Dana or Victoria would walk in, upsetting the balance and allowing her more time to figure out a solution.

Chloe walked in.

 _Oh gosh…_

Max's eyes shot to the fire alarm, the pounding in her head drowning out the voices surrounding her.

 _Maybe I can go back again,_ she pleaded with herself, desperately. _Just give me another five days. There's no harm in letting me spend another five days with her, is there?_

But inside, she knew. She knew she couldn't back out now, no matter how much she wanted to. It'd be just as painful the next time, and how could she spend all that time with Chloe again, this time knowing she only had five days to live?

She wished she could go back. Not just for five days, but back before she abandoned Chloe.

She thought longingly about everything they used to do together, how they had birthday parties and dressed up as pirates, how they used to have sleepovers and stay up until the early hours of the morning gossiping and laughing together…

She thought about what she missed in those five years, how they could have gone to Blackwell together and how she could've stopped Chloe from dropping out, how she could've been there for Chloe when she was at her lowest, and laughed with her at her best.

She thought about everything they will miss together.

That was the most painful of all.

She thought about how she never got a chance to tell Chloe just how much she meant to her, how special their time was together.

Though her feelings were all mixed up in her mind, Max felt that, given time, she would love Chloe beyond the boundaries of friendship.

But mourning the past and the future was futile.

This was correcting the present.

It was what had to be done.

"Get that gun away from me, psycho!" Chloe yelled, her voice weaving its way through Max's veins and into her heart, piercing it.

The bullet crashed.

Chloe's body fell to the floor.

Silently, Max wept uncontrollably, curling up into a tight ball on the floor, her body a shivering mess. Tears streamed down her clammy red features, dripping a sickly salt into her mouth.

It made her want to throw up.

 _She's gone…_ Max sobbed, burying her face in her palms, not noticing when her camera fell to the floor, quietly smashing the lens.

 _She's gone…_


End file.
